Each Other
by JadziaKathryn
Summary: Hoshi needs her emergency chocolate, and Archer finds another thing he can't protect his crew from. But things have a way of working out...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own them, nor am I making any money off this.

**Each Other**

The door to her quarters slid shut, and Hoshi did not bother to turn on the lights. Instead, she let herself fall, face-down, on her unmade bed.

She couldn't get the scene out of her head. It was all so unfair!

_Malcolm looked down. "I'm still getting used to this. _Enterprise_ is a lot different than what I'm accustomed to." He tried to look up, but his gaze avoided her eyes. "I'm just not ready for a relationship right now. Maybe in time, but I'm not ready now."_

"_Oh," she replied, feeling her heart sink. Neither of them spoke for a minute. Finally she whispered, "And now the awkward silence."_

"_Indeed."_

_She swallowed hard. "I guess I'll be going."_

_His voice interrupted her departure. "Hoshi?"_

"_Yes?"_

"_Are we going to be okay?"_

_She forced a smile and hoped it didn't look as pathetic as it felt. "Of course we are. Friends?"_

"_Friends," he replied. _

In her dark quarters, face buried into her balled-up pillow, Hoshi reminded herself that she didn't want to be in anyone's shadow. If Malcolm wasn't ready for a relationship, she shouldn't want to be in one doomed to fail.

And yet she couldn't help but wonder if he wasn't ready, or merely scared. Because if he was scared, well, she was scared too. It was a frightening thought, to move a friendship and working relationship to a romantic relationship. She'd thought it worth the risk.

Suddenly she was struck by the realization that she hadn't cried. That seemed strange and unnatural. Did it mean something? Maybe it should, or maybe she was overanalyzing.

Without turning on the lights she got up and went over to her drawers. Lights weren't necessary to find what she was looking for. Her fingers found the smooth box and lifted the lid. She plucked out one neatly-wrapped cube, hesitated for a moment, and decided that the occasion warranted another.

After replacing the lid and closing the drawer, Hoshi retreated to her bed. She unwrapped the first cube and put it in her mouth. Emergency chocolate. It was smooth and somehow reassuring. Women had been finding solace in chocolate for generations, and that was slightly comforting. It meant that she wasn't the first person to go through this pain and confusion.

Why wasn't she crying? It perplexed her. Did it mean that she didn't feel for Malcolm as much as she'd thought? Had it not sunk in yet? Was she holding out hope that he would be ready soon?

The last question seemed obvious. Of course she wanted him to come to her door and say, "I can't let you get away." However, he had made it clear that she shouldn't expect that.

She wanted to curse the people who had given him so much to get over before he could be ready, wanted to scream, wanted to kiss Malcolm, wanted to cry.

Popping the second cube of chocolate in her mouth, she unzipped her uniform and shrugged it off. Leaving the regulation Starfleet tank top on, she slid into the flannel pajama bottoms she'd thrown on her bed that morning. The flannel was usually comforting, but it didn't help much this time.

She bit down on the chocolate and savored the unplanned chomp. Then she froze, letting the chocolate melt slowly as she tried to process the events of the evening, tried in vain to understand.

After several minutes, she hurled her pillow at the door and watched as it slid down the metal. "Dammit!" She crossed the room, picked up the pillow, looked at it, and beat it against the door several times. "Why?" _Smack._ "Why can't he be ready?" _Smack._ "Why him?" _Smack._ "Why can't I cry?" _Smack._ "Damn!" _Smack. Smack. Smack. _

Finally she let the pillow drop. She looked at it on the floor for a moment, and then she dropped to follow it.

* * *

"She's not answering, sir," replied Crewman Hastings, who had gamma shift at Communications.

Captain Archer sighed. This was unlike Hoshi, and he was beginning to worry. "Malcolm, why don't you go to her quarters?"

Malcolm had claimed to have never seen a deer caught in headlights. Nonetheless, he did a spectacular impression. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"What?" Clearly, something was going on.

"Respectfully, sir, I don't think that's a good idea." Now the look on Malcolm's face begged Archer not to ask.

"Alright. T'Pol, you have the bridge."

She didn't answer the door, so he put in his override. Whoever decided to give captains an all-purpose override code had great foresight. The door slid open to reveal Hoshi, wearing her regulation tank top and purple pajama bottoms, curled up on the floor directly in front of her door, clutching her pillow and in a deep sleep.

When he saw the two shiny wrappers on the floor, he knew that something painful had happened, and he was willing to bet it had to do with Malcolm. The wrappers were from Hoshi's stash of emergency chocolate. She never ate that particular kind unless she needed comfort.

Unhappy about her pain but unable to do anything about it, he stepped outside and closed the door. He considered moving her to the bed, but that might just make her more uncomfortable when she woke up.

Back on the bridge, Malcolm had obtained T'Pol's permission to work in the armory, and Ensign Kostinopolous was manning Tactical. "Crewman," Archer said to Hastings upon his return, "have Ensign de Rochelle cover Ensign Sato's shift. Cataloging the dialects of Boenian can wait."

T'Pol vacated the command chair, and he sat down with a small sigh. "Ensign Sato has been working very hard. She's overtired, so I've given her the day off."

Later that day, he recorded in his personal log,"Add 'each other' to the list of things I can't protect my crew from."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I wrote the first part of this intending for it to be a one-shot. However, after I got over the guy who inspired it, I found that this story wasn't done.

Disclaimer still stands.

* * *

Archer learned about Hoshi's emergency chocolate over a year ago. There had been a particularly harrowing away mission involving barely-escaped execution and broken bones all around, and he had asked if she would be alright.

"_I'll be fine," she sighed. "An emergency chocolate or two and a good night's sleep will do wonders."_

"_Emergency chocolate?" he repeated, curious._

"_Even the wrappers seem to be made of a dozen tiny mirrors. You can't help but feel better after eating this chocolate. It's exquisite."_

He mentally shook his head in an attempt to halt that train of thought. He'd brought T'Pol's latest report on the bridge. Normally he would have read it in his ready room, feet propped up, but the atmosphere of the bridge would help him focus. That way he wouldn't think too much about Hoshi, who he always felt responsible for dragging into space to begin with.

Rather, that had been the plan. It was, so far, not a very successful one. No matter how hard he tried to focus on the molecular breakdown of the last nebula they encountered, he wondered how Hoshi was doing. Starfleet would be intrigued by the – what was it T'Pol had written? – "unusually high percentage of metallic compounds, concentrated primarily in the center of the nebula," but he wasn't. Not at all.

Skimming past the precise numerical data, which he didn't really think he needed to know, Archer found his thoughts back at Hoshi's quarters. The wrappers he'd seen fit her description, and he didn't suppose that kind of wrapper was a common thing. Malcolm had looked suspiciously guilty and just a bit frightened when Hoshi didn't report for duty.

He pressed his thumb down to sign off on T'Pol's characteristically ideal report. Unfortunately, this left him without even a pretense of something to do.

Finally he was unable to bear it any longer. "You have the bridge, Commander," he told T'Pol. Maybe he'd just comm Hoshi from his ready room.

Once in his sanctuary, he stopped. Should he comm? He didn't want to make things worse, but he really wanted to make sure that she was alright. Fortunately, his pondering was interrupted.

"Sato to Archer." She was contacting him, not the bridge. That probably meant she'd found the little note he'd sent informing of her day off.

He hit the comm. "Archer. Feeling better, Hoshi?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I - "

"It's alright. We all need a day off now and then. Are you going to be alright?" That sounded suitably subtle. She would note the future tense.

There was a pause on the other end, probably as she tried to word her response carefully. "Yes. I just had a rough night."

"If you need anything, you know where I am."

"Yes sir." She paused again, but only briefly. "And Captain? Thank you."

"You're welcome."

* * *

Hoshi discovered that the middle of the day was a great time to visit the gym. She had the place to herself, which suited her just fine. Even when a few tears finally made their way down her cheeks, on the treadmill of all places, there was no witness to her anguish. She eventually made her way to the mess hall for a bowl of tomato soup and an éclair. The éclair did her good, particularly the rich chocolate frosting.

Feeling somewhat better, although far from great, she went back to her quarters for a nice long shower and changed into casual and comfortable clothes. After that, she settled in to read. Travis had all but insisted that she read this new spy novel. Her preferences were not spy novels, but Travis had loved it so much she agreed to read it.

A short romantic interlude in chapter three compelled her over to her drawer, where she pulled out another chocolate. At this rate, her stash wouldn't last until their next visit to Earth, but she didn't care. She savored the chocolate and glared at the book, as if somehow it were responsible for her sorrow.

She wasn't going to read it anymore, but the main character _was_ fascinating, as Travis had promised, so she opted to keep going. Besides, there couldn't be much romance in it, or Travis wouldn't have raved so much about the book.

Halfway through chapter five her door chimed. She put the bookmark in and sat up. "Come in."

T'Pol hesitantly stepped inside. "Ensign. I came to inquire as to your health."

Hoshi smiled. "Thanks. I'm feeling better, and I'll be back tomorrow."

"If your workload is too strenuous," suggested T'Pol, "we can make arrangements for reducing it."

"What?" Hoshi asked, confused. "My workload isn't too much."

"Captain Archer indicated that you were overtired from work." T'Pol had the vaguely disconcerted look she got when she failed to understand a situation, particularly involving humans.

"So that's what she said," Hoshi muttered, more to herself than T'Pol. Addressing the other woman, she explained, "That was mostly an excuse."

"An excuse?" echoed T'Pol, followed by a raised eyebrow. That, Hoshi had learned, was T'Pol's restrained way of asking for more details without actually asking. It allowed the other person the opportunity to simply affirm the phrase, and the subject would be dropped.

Hoshi sighed. She might as well tell T'Pol, because she didn't want to worry her. Not that T'Pol would confess to worrying. "Confidentially," she began, "I was upset last night, and I fell asleep without setting my alarm. The captain gave me the day off for personal reasons."

T'Pol replied, "I see," in the way that meant she really didn't, but neither did she want to be rude and press for details. "Are you less 'upset' now?"

The way she said it made Hoshi smile a sad half-smile. "Less upset, yes. It's not one of those things that goes away overnight, though." She decided that she might as well confide in someone, although Captain Archer probably knew. It was supposed to help. "Just between you and me, I had hoped that Malcolm and I might be more than friends."

"You are referring to a romantic relationship?"

Hoshi nodded. T'Pol said nothing for a moment. Then she offered unexpected comfort. "I do not believe that Lieutenant Reed is fully aware of what he is forsaking."

"Thanks, T'Pol."

She simply nodded. "Rest well." With that, she left.

Just as the door was sliding shut, she heard T'Pol, in what could only have been an intentionally loud voice, say, "Lieutenant." Hoshi wasn't sure where T'Pol had learned that, but her own keen ears just allowed her to hear it over the door.

She didn't even have time to panic. Before Malcolm pressed the chime, she grabbed her brush and ran it through her loose hair. The clothes she was wearing weren't what she would have preferred, but it was too late for that. The chime rang. "Come in."

They looked at each other for a moment. Finally, Malcolm spoke, hands still clasped firmly behind his back. "Hoshi."

"Malcolm."

He inhaled deeply, then blurted out, "I've been an idiot." Hoshi just looked at him. "When you weren't on the bridge today, I thought to myself, _I did this. The most amazing woman I've ever known, and look what I did_." He held out a single pink rose fashioned out of cloth. They didn't have roses on board, but the one he gave to her looked quite real.

"I'm so sorry, Hoshi."

She looked at the rose and sighed. "Malcolm, you don't have to be sorry. If you don't feel- "

"But I do!" he exclaimed, cutting her off.

Hoshi was sure that her jaw was going to hit the floor. "What?"

"Everything I said before – well, it was half true. I'm not sure if I'm ready because my record is horrible. I told you no because I didn't want to hurt you."

"It didn't work," she whispered.

"I know. I'm so sorry, Hoshi. I didn't want to screw this up, but I managed to spectacularly."

Hoshi twirled the fabric rose in her hand. "I can't believe it."

"Do you think you can forgive me?" He looked at her so earnestly, looking more vulnerable than she had ever seen him.

"On one condition."

"What?"

"That you promise never, ever to do anything like that again!"

Malcolm's face broke out into a huge smile, and he pulled her into a hug. "I promise, Hoshi. Never." Still grinning, he stepped back. "May I have the pleasure of your company for dinner?"

She beamed. "I'd love that."

The End


End file.
